


Happy Birthday, Oliver Queen

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver woke up to the faint smell of coffee and her.  He was face down on the bed, one arm beneath his pillow the other stretched out and he could feel her skin against his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Oliver Queen

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Forgive my lame attempt at a title. This little drabble would not get out of my head until I wrote it. Now, maybe I can work not he other stuff in my head…maybe.
> 
> For reference, please note EBR’s photoshoot with the white men’s dress shirt. That was inspirational in the writing of this one-shot.
> 
> As always, I LOVE to know what you think! Thanks for all the support!

He woke up to the faint smell of coffee and her. He was face down on the bed, one arm beneath his pillow the other stretched out and he could feel her skin against his own.

When he turned his head, blinking open tired eyes, he found her sitting on her side of the bed, her body angled towards him as she held a cup of steaming coffee in her hands.

The smile on her face was warm and familiar and he answered it with one of his own as he let his eyes wander to where his arm was slung over her legs. She took another sip of her coffee before she spoke broke the comfortable silence of the morning.

“You don’t like it when I get out of bed,” she murmured softly, almost amused, as she looked down pointedly to her lap, “As soon as I was back, this happened.”

His heart tugged at the thought and he noticed for the first time that she was wearing one of his white dress shirts that he remembered packing but hadn’t worn yet. He was sure now he wouldn’t be the one wearing it at all this trip…this one was hers.

His hand tightened around her thigh, fingers tracing over the soft, toned flesh. “Spent too long away from you,” he answered, his voice rough with sleep.

He saw her lips part, her eyes widen and her breath falter before she softened, leaning forward and brushing a hand over the top of his head. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not going anywhere without you, then,” she whispered into his skin before brushing her lips over his temple.

He sighed, and his arm tightened around her, pulling her closer. 

“Oliver, my coffee…” she warned teasingly as he turned completely, so both of his hands could touch and feel her.

He huffed out a breath of laughter as she sat back.

His eyes tripped over her frame and she tilted her head to the side as one hand ran over her ribs,calloused pads travelled back and forth.

“Happy birthday, Oliver Queen.”

His fingers paused and then his lips tipped up.

“You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” She said softly, lifting one hand and tracing his brow and then down his cheek.

His eyes fell to the hand holding her coffee and gently, he took it and set it on the table beside the bed.

Then he cupped the back of her head, fingers threading through soft strands of her blonde hair, sparkling golden from the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

She bit her lower lip, in that way that made his stomach clench with desire, heat flaring through him as she followed his lead, her hair curtaining them in from the outside world. His shirt she wore draped open against his chest, her arms bracketing the side of his head, and he couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream.

He’d chosen her. He would always choose her. He knew that now more than ever.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that their lives would be carefree and no danger would ever threaten them again, but he knew that they would face it together.

There was no more walking away, no more denying themselves of the love they had for each other.

They were stronger, better, _happier_ together. 

“I didn’t have time to ask you what you wanted for your birthday,” she murmured, her nose brushing his as her breath ghosted over his face in the quiet cocoon they’d created.

A grin spread across his face, eyes holding hers as he leaned up, kissing her softly. 

“I already have it,” he whispered, taking her bottom lip between his and swiping his tongue into her mouth.

_“You.”_

She moaned softly before giggling, “Well, I’m yours, Oliver.”

His heart swelled, emotions tumbling through him as tears pricked his eyes. His hands came up to bracket her face, thumbs stroking over her cheeks and he took her in, gaze trailing over facet and feature that he’d learned even more intimately in the past few days.

“I love you.”

She smiled, and he watched in awe as she lowered herself down, covering his body with her own, whispering her own words of love into his skin.

Oliver Queen turned thirty on May 16, 2015, and, for the first time, he knew what true happiness felt like and how love was more than just a word but an emotion that filled up your entire being and made you so much stronger.

Oliver Queen turned thirty, happy and in the arms of the woman he loved, ready for the many birthdays to come.


End file.
